


It's you

by Gem_Gem, KittieHill



Series: Kittie And Gem Stories [25]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Accidental meeting, Bisexuality, Bottom John, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Don't Like Don't Read, M/M, PWP, Praise Kink, Sex App, Sexy Men loving Sexy Men, Top Greg, Unprotected Sex, a lot of dirty talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:07:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23330647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gem_Gem/pseuds/Gem_Gem, https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittieHill/pseuds/KittieHill
Summary: John was lonely, sexually frustrated, desperate, and far too into the strange, unknown man to deny himself any longer.
Relationships: Greg Lestrade/John Watson
Series: Kittie And Gem Stories [25]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/323666
Comments: 16
Kudos: 87





	It's you

**Author's Note:**

> Please accept this story from us as a gift during this horrid time!

John made himself more presentable in the mirror of the lift as it jerked, rumbled, and started its rocky journey upwards and arranged, then rearranged how his coat sat on his shoulders, trying to make sure it wasn’t obvious what he was carrying in his pockets. He smoothed at the bulges and lumps when he found them, patting the tube of lubricant and the crackling packets of condoms that were pressed side by side idly, eyes darting from his own nervous eager face in the reflection, to the numbers being displayed in front of him in sluggish blinks of red. He felt stupid, like a sex-crazed teenager instead of a mid-thirties GP, but he was far too desperate, too starved for touch, to turn back now. Even if it was with a stranger. A stranger he actually hadn’t seen the face of nor heard speak a single word except for grunts and half bitten off curses.

Swallowing, John glanced at himself again, leaning closer to the mirror to stare at the anxious expression that was reflected back to him. The stranger hadn’t seen him either. Nothing but images of their bodies and hands had been swapped between them. There had been no real need for anything else. They both knew what it was and what it would be when they met. Nothing but skin contact and pleasure, a carnal dance of the hungry need to consume and be consumed sexually.

Checking his teeth to make sure he had nothing between them, sucking at them just in case, John cleared his throat and faced the doors, faced the incoming choice he’d made. He wondered what the stranger, the person, would look like. John had got into contact with the man on a well-known sex app, recommended by singletons for the ability to find a one night stand, or a more on-going fuck buddy scenario. John had hesitated, unsure whether he had been ready to take on that side of his sexuality again, to be passionate with another man, but that hesitation had ended as soon as he’d seen the man’s profile picture.

With the username Frenchie, the man had stood proudly in his profile, head cut off ambiguously with his shirt off, the grey speckled hair on his chest and stomach looking so perfectly kissable that John had bitten his lip, following the trail down from the man's navel to his waistband. He’d always had a bit of a soft spot for hairy chests. Liked knowing it was a man he was with. So he’d reached out and contacted him, not entirely hopeful but eager all the same.

A week later he found himself agreeing to meet in a mid-priced hotel in central London for a midday fuck fest.

Sherlock probably knew. Everything. As was normal. But John pushed that thought aside, as that was a concern for later, once John had gotten his rocks off – a few times, he hoped – he would deal with Sherlock's reaction, his leering deductions and sneering attitude.

The opening lift doors shook him from his thoughts and he coughed, checked himself out in the mirror one last time, and stepped out to walk the corridor. He knew the number, had it memorised, but he checked it again anyway, opening his phone at a fumble, buzzing with anticipation, and nodded when he read it out to himself, in his head, then in a faint shaky whisper, letting his lips curve around it, letting his tongue curl. It wasn’t the first time he’d met with someone he barely knew for a quick tumble, though it was the first he’d met via social media only. John had always seen and spoke to his interest in person, knowing the heat of their bodies, the tang of their scent, the pitch of their voice.

As he strolled, glancing at each door in turn, he let the unknown man know he was only moments away with a quick text, let him know how eager he was and double checked to see if he hadn’t actually just been stood up or worse, if it had been some elaborate social experiment ran by a certain often cruel detective. He let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding when the response was immediate, the message a line of animated wink emoticons, moving in unison. How was it possible that his cock gave a throb of anticipation from that simple small yellow cartoon?

He swallowed hard and tried to settle his thunderous heart and roaring thoughts as he finally reached the right door. Despite it being only several inches taller than him, it seemed to grow above him, looming and somehow judgemental in its starkness, the wood cheap and simple and thin. It wouldn’t hold back any noise from within, wouldn’t be much of a shield of privacy. John stopped in front of it, inhaled deeply and then knocked lightly with the tip of his knuckles, standing upright at parade rest as he heard movement on the other side.

With a slide of a lock and the click of the handle, the door swung open, and the first thing John noticed was the smell, something fruity, like ripe berries, drifting out from a bathroom which was terribly close by, followed by a fine mist of moisture from the recently used shower. The second thing he noticed was the man in front of him when the door was pulled back fully, the tall, handsome, drop dead gorgeous man in the picture…

Was Greg Lestrade.

Greg’s sultry smirk flickered and then dropped from his face as their gazes met, and he gaped with widening eyes before jerking into movement, closing the robe he had around him more tightly, “Oh God… _John_? You… you’re… _oh my God_ …” he spluttered, flushing in the face and letting out a short burst of hoarse laughter, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck and the underside of his chin. “Jesus Christ… uh… I didn’t know, I didn’t know anything, I swear! I didn’t know you were _him_ and I didn’t know that you were…” Greg floundered and gestured awkwardly between them, adjusting his stance, naked, muscled calves tensing. “Not that I _should_ know… it’s not really my business, but… I… well… I, um, _God_ … this isn’t awkward _at all_ …”

“Yeah.” Clearing his throat and shifting his weight uneasily too, John heard a humourless laugh erupt from his throat and shook his head in disbelief, shocked to the core at such an unprecedented situation. From everything he had expected, he hadn’t expected this, not in a million years. “Fucking hell… This is so _embarrassing_! Not because – I mean – You're _lovely_ and all that… but I've--” He lost his voice for a second, realisation still dowsing him in unforgiving waves, and felt his breath knocked out of him, lowering his tone. “--I sent you pictures and videos of my _dick_ _and my… Oh God...”_

“Yeah,” Greg snorted, lips twisting and then blooming into a rather roguish grin regardless of the current panic and shock that had enveloped them, “yeah, you have… and I’ve… I’ve sent you the same.” He looked John over, twitchy and hesitant, and leaned out of the door quickly with a forming frown, seeming for a second to be dubious or worried they’d be overheard, perhaps seen. He rocked back onto his heels just as quickly and thumbed at the room behind him. “Um. I guess we should… talk?”

“Probably for the best,” John nodded, smiling when Greg stepped to the side and let him in.

The hotel room was nice, spacious and airy. It seemed clean and well organised, minimal furniture artistically placed and while the curtains had been left drawn, a white lace net had been pulled down over the window that was thin enough to allow light in, but which obscured them from prying eyes. Greg had ordered a couple bottles of beer, a brand favoured by John, and they stood beaded with condensation on the dresser near a small TV quietly playing music from an online radio station. Greg's clothes, a smart casual arrangement of jeans, t-shirt and suit jacket, had been carefully folded across the back of one chair. It looked homely and not at all like two men had been planning to indulge in filthy sex acts.

“ _So_...” John said after Greg closed the door and stood near him uncertainly, “Frenchie, eh?”

“Nickname from secondary school,” he replied with a loose shrug and an amused wrinkle of his nose, ruffling at the damp hair of his nape as he turned to walk further inside, making his way to his clothes but only looking at them, arms crossed. “Lestrade is French. Something my friends found terribly amusing. It stuck, even after we’d grown up.”

“Makes sense,” John hummed, unsure what to do with his hands. He pushed into his pockets, forgetting for a moment what exactly was inside them. The condoms crinkled loudly in the quiet room, even muffled as they were by his coat, and John tried not to wince. “I had no idea you were also... interested in men.”

Greg arched an eyebrow and turned to face him fully, “Yeah?” he asked, looking down at John’s shoes and sighing. “Yeah, I suppose it’s not obvious. Never is really. Lots of us lot about though, aren’t there? Bisexuals. But it’s still so… _taboo_. People don’t understand. Can’t really get that a person can be interested in both sexes, rather than just the one. - And, of course, it doesn’t help that I prefer women overall and that’s all people see or know. It’s like, uh, 70/30 to women, I think? If I had to put a percentage to it.” Greg brought his eyes up in question. “And you? I assume you prefer women too? You’ve only dated women as far as I’ve known you.”

“Yeah,” John chuckled, “I'm probably 60/40 women. I date women and don't usually date men. I find it more difficult. Not just because of… how the world generally used to look at that, but it’s, well, not really something I’m skilled at. Or even wanted really. I enjoy sex with them more than I do with women though.” The confession made his cheeks blush red hot despite the much filthier conversations they had indulged in over the app. “There's something I find incredibly sexy about the male body. The strength of it. As well as other attributes...”

“Then how the _fuck_ do you cope?” Greg laughed suddenly and hitched one shoulder in response to John lifted brow, signalling vaguely over his shoulder. “Living with Sherlock. He parades about in next to _nothing_!”

“Lots and _lots_ of masturbation,” John snorted, feeling ultimately more relaxed and turning to move to the bed, sitting on it with a bounce and a sigh, “I've had a couple of dalliances with men in the last few months, secret handjobs in pubs, a blowjob from someone I met at work, but I haven't had _sex_ with a man in almost a year and I was – well, I was looking forward to it.”

“ _Dalliances_? Oh la la!” Greg teased with a wiggle of his eyebrows, rocking on his feet and strolling to stand instead before John, arms still crossed. He peered down at him, possibly in contemplation judging by his furrowing forehead, and cleared his throat. “I’ve had none. Not been with another man in… God, _years_! Not since before I was with my ex...”

“And you wanted to entrust your grown back gay-virginity to DJ?” John laughed, using his username pseudonym, “I'm _honoured_.”

Greg smirked at him, eyes glinting and cheeks going pink, “Yeah, well, you were the best. By far! - Most were a bit too… _you know_ … and I wasn’t really a fan of the whole thing. A lot of them were also young. _Very_ young. And I’m not into _that_ either. I find it a bit… weird,” he disclosed. “Everything you said and did and… _showed_ … was right up my alley.”

John ducked his head, flattered, and licked his lips anxiously, “You too. All the other people on there were just – I don't know – too cocky,” he said and winced, “Excuse the pun. I didn't like the idea of shagging any of them and then I saw your chest and... _yeah_. Our chats certainly helped with my sexual frustration at home too…” He bit his upper lip nervously, dragging his teeth over it and then sucking at the inside of his cheek. Felt the stirrings of arousal and anticipation again. John didn’t know exactly how to combat it, or even if he wanted to, it had been so long and Greg was attractive, funny, friendly, and just as desperate as he was. He wiped some imaginary fluff from his trousers and clenched his jaw, moved his eyes to the shapes of Greg’s bare toes. “I mean – we could still…. If that's not too weird?”

“...It would be though, right? Weird? _Really_ weird. We… we’re… well, we’re _not_ but we’re sort of close to being colleagues? We’re... friends? And don’t even get me started on what Sherlock will say about this,” Greg murmured, though he stepped closer and reached out, hesitating for only a second before he fiddled with John’s coat collar, pretending to straighten the already smoothed fabric. It sent a shot of heat straight through John. “It would be... it would be a shame though. And it would just be the once. To do it more than that would mean it’s… not what we agreed. What we both wanted. Right?”

“Yeah… We put a lot of work into making this happen,” John said, knowing they were mainly just babbling, trying to find a reason to both do it and not. He let his hand lift and run up Greg's outer thigh until it cupped his hip over the towelled robe. “Time off work, booking the room… and I er... _cleaned_. Really does seem a shame to waste it.”

Greg exhaled roughly and stared down at him as John glanced up, finding Greg’s pupils growing wide enough to almost encompass his entire iris, turning his gaze dark and desirous, “Yeah, you… you showed me this morning. Showed me how well you… _prepared_ …” He coughed the eager edge from his voice and then looked away, letting his gaze run frantically over the room for a moment, jaw clenching and fingers tightening on John’s coat, peeling it open to expose more of his neck. “And we’ve… I’ve seen you and you’ve seen me and… can’t really… unsee that.” With a small, sideways grin, Greg’s eyes lingered for a second on John’s spread legs. “I even saved most of the images and videos to my PC. Looked at them a lot before coming here.”

“I have all the ones from you still on my phone,” John admitted under his breath, moving his hand along the sash and loosening it somewhat, “Wank along to the sounds you make… you're _very_ vocal when you're aroused and it’s... incredibly sexy. More than I thought possible.” He let his touch run up the slackened V of the robe and scratched his nails into Greg's stomach hair. “It’s got me off, every night since...”

Greg let out a harsh, rush of breath and turned his head, brow furrowing deeper still as he seemed to fight with his own desires and common sense, but it only lasted a second or two before he let loose a low sound of arousal, fisted both of his hands into John’s coat and yanked him up to his feet, “I’m gonna kiss you,” he informed John in a husky, grunting whisper. “I’m gonna kiss you even though it’s a fucking _stupid_ idea, because I don’t think I’d be able to stop until you walk out of here… and even then I’d be thinking about it. Wanting it— _Fuck_ , knowing it’s been you this whole time is strangely… exhilarating--”

“ _Kiss me,_ ” John moaned, pushing his hands into the robe and spreading his fingers across Greg's chest, “And then let me suck your dick, like I promised.”

“ _Yeah_ ,” Greg growled, voice thick with obvious arousal, and shoved John’s coat down his arms, trapping them to his sides, lips descending on John with greedy abandon. He groaned loudly the instant they were connected and tilted his head, pushing for a deep, plundering kiss once John swiftly opened up to him, accepting his tongue, his minty breath and nipping teeth.

With his arms held down, bound by the restricting tug of his coat, John couldn't reach up like he wanted to and so lifted one of his legs and wrapped it around the back of Greg’s knee to bring them together instead. Greg was a lot more confident than John expected, taking over his personal space hungrily and sucking control from him, worshipping John to such an extent that he felt flayed open and stretched out just from the mash of lips alone. He’d always been the one in control before. He was the dominant one, the one who knew what to give and what to take, the one who enjoyed giving others pleasure, so to have the roles reversed on him was jarringly electrifying. John tilted his head and extended his tongue, groaning wantonly, eyes fluttering as Greg did something complicated with his own tongue in response. John needed to touch him, he needed to be naked, needed everything that had been promised.

Greg it seemed had similar thoughts, because he pushed John down on the bed and leaned over him, pulling at his clothes, “ _Off_ ,” he grunted, parting from John, linked only by a quivering line of saliva as he stared down with wanton fervour. “I want _all_ your clothes off. Now. Right now. Show me… show me _everything_ …”

“ _Yes_...” John nodded frantically, “Yes...” Now released from his momentary bindings, he scrambled to pull off his coat, jumper, shirt and kick off his shoes, torn between baring himself to Greg’s molten gaze and lunging up for another deep kiss, now able to cup Greg's face. He toed off his socks and worked on his belt, shaking with excitement. “ _God_ , I've been hard all day waiting for this. I can’t believe it’s you...” John began a trail of kisses down Greg's throat. “I'm glad though… it makes everything… easier somehow, when it should be… should be the opposite – You're so _fucking sexy_.”

“So are you,” Greg replied and pulled away to shrug off his robe, baring his naked body to John’s abruptly ravenous gaze. His cock was filling quickly, bobbing out with a heavy throb as it stiffened, extending and thickening. It was already familiar to John. He knew how big it could get, how shiny and wet, how flushed and dark the skin would become. Seeing it in person though, in the flesh, feeling the heat from it as it swayed near him, was almost too much for him to bear. “Let me see you.”

Finally down to just his pants that left absolutely nothing to the imagination, the fabric clinging to each rigid inch, showing off the lines and veins of his shaft and the thick ridge of his head which had soaked through the fabric, John hitched his hips up, thumbs hooked into his waistband and shimmied them down. Kicking them off his ankles, uncovered for Greg for the first time in person, John shifted and widened his legs until John saw that Greg had seen. Seen what he’d kept from him. Seen the large flared base of his favoured plug.

Greg took a hissing inhale and cornered John down against the bed, attacking the crook of his neck with teeth and tongue, “Such a good lad,” he uttered with only a faintly awkward laugh, sucking at John’s skin, but not hard enough to bruise. “I can’t believe you walked all the way here with _that_ inside you…” He palmed at his own cock as he spoke, John could see his arm shifting, see the ripple of sinew and straining of tendons. Could smell him in the air, the dark, mouth-watering musk of him. It was dizzying. “Have you had it in before today? Has it been inside you while we’ve been standing side by side? In the pub… at crime scenes… in the comfort of your living room?”

Moaning deeply, John clung to Greg and ran his hands across his chest, thumbing at his nipples, nipples John had watched him pluck and roll countless times during his video messages, “The O'Brien case...” he disclosed, clenching his eyes shut for a second, teeth grinding and cheeks blazing at how easily he caved, how much he wanted to please and answer, “Sherlock interrupted me whilst I was having a wank... wouldn't give me time to do anything but pull on a pair of jeans. Had to come out with it in… I don’t know if he knew… maybe, the bastard.”

“He probably did know, yeah,” Greg murmured with a scoff and dipped down to lick and nip at John’s collarbone, shivering in raising desire. He paused for a moment, wavering between moving away and pushing closer, and then lifted his head to skim his wet lips along John’s chin to speak against his mouth. “I want to… taste you. Your dick. Your pretty stretched rim. Then you can suck me. Yeah?”

“ _Fuck_...” John gasped highly but nodded, reaching to tangle his fingers into Greg's hair and follow his head while it slipped further to suck and kiss at John's belly, “Yeah – Yeah, _please_. Taste me.”

“Then I’m gonna _fuck_ you,” Greg told him with yearning promise, idling to give some love to the hair beneath John’s navel, leading the way down. “Fuck you over the bed first. Deep and hard, just the way you want it. Then you can ride me. Get on top and do what you want with me. Use me for your own pleasure. Take what you need.”

“ _Yes_...” John snarled, head thrown back and pushing up when Greg nipped at his skin, pinching just enough to have his cock waving. “Don't let me come until I'm riding you. Until I can cover your stomach and chest… _please_.”

Grunting at the request, Greg moved to mouth at John’s inner thigh, pressing his leg out to display more of him, “Yeah… rub it in,” he suggested lowly and then breathed over John’s aching length, nosing at the hot skin of his retracted foreskin. “Do… we still need condoms for this? - I’m clean. I swear it. You can trust me. I trust you.”

“Yeah, I trust you,” John nodded, reaching to cup Greg's cheek and rub his thumb across a soft wet lower lip. He thought about the consequences. Weighed the pros and cons. He knew it wasn’t something he should agree to without some thought, but his rationality was betraying him and the fog of impatience was already half blinding him. John did trust Greg. He trusted him. Trusted his integrity and sexual history. “Without then, yes… although I've never done it without. I even put condoms on my toys. Habit. Easier cleanup...”

“I can wear one if it makes you more comfortable,” Greg told him, hands drifting up John’s legs to cup, fondle, and tug at John’s scrotum. “I know it’s asking a lot. And it’s _very_ messy...” He flashed John a slanted, boyish grin and then swooped down to kiss John’s moist tip, taking hold of his buttocks to lift him up with a bulge of his biceps, clearly showing off. “Though I do like a bit of mess...”

John scrabbled at Greg's hair with one hand, the other grabbing for a pillow to work under John's back and lift his hips, giving easier access, “Yeah, no. I trust you. I want – _that_. Want to experience it with someone I trust. Who more trust worthy than a policeman?” he asked around his gasps, giving his cock a slight tug, spreading the wetness at the end.

Letting out a breathy laugh, Greg stroked up the back of John’s thighs, spreading his legs a little more, “ _Very_ true,” he mumbled, brushing his lips against John’s knuckles before he took his length into his mouth with a contented hum. Licking, suckling and smearing his tongue in every place he’d said he would.

“ _Fucking_ hell...” John breathed, eyes fluttering as he throbbed in Greg's mouth. “You have _no_ idea how much I've been dreaming of this. Of being in your mouth… watching your throat convulse as you swallow me… _Christ_.”

Greg pulled back with a moist slurp, “Yeah?” he asked, letting John go only to nuzzle and suck his way down, following a prominent vein. “Did you… make up a face? When you were imaging it? I found it so difficult. There were times I… I almost asked to see you. Told myself that it didn’t matter though, talked myself out of it.” He took John into his mouth again without another word, inhaling deeply as he let him penetrate the back of his throat. Greg, surprisingly, had a good control of his gag reflex and barely gagged and choked as he engulfed John in a tight, slick swallow.

Stroking through his hair, mussing it up between his fingers, John shook his head in answer, “No – No, I couldn't seem to think of what you'd look like either... though I had imagined a bit of a beard whenever I tried. Something scratchy and masculine. Imagined painting it with my come. - Mostly… mostly I thought about your chest. About your stomach and your arse and your cock. _Especially_ your cock. Wondering how much it would stretch me open. How it would leave me sore for days on end...”

Caressing two circling fingers against John’s perineum, the tips, then the knuckles, abruptly enough to send John’s body arcing, Greg kept his cock down his throat for several hard, noisy, longing gulps until he had to pull off for a shuddering few breaths, “Yeah,” he rasped and grinned widely, kissing his way to John’s balls, taking them into his mouth one at a time. “Yeah, I can’t wait to stretch you open and _fuck_ into you. I wanna… _God_ I wanna record it. Keep it. Watch it on repeat…” Greg gave John’s hips a playful heaving tug, moving on to lick around the edge of the anal plug. “Ingrain every moment, every sensation, in the back of my eyes. So I can see you, see us, whenever I wanted!”

“ _Fuck_!” John hissed and grabbed for the base of his cock with a shocked snort, squeezing away his budding orgasm, already teetering towards his apex. He didn’t want it to end so soon. Not yet. Not after all the time it took to get where he was. “Jesus, I thought you hadn't been with a man for _years_? How are you so good...” He whined and clenched his teeth, fighting not to lose himself to the tempting, fizzing sparks of bliss. “Almost had me coming on your face then...”

“It’s like riding a bike,” Greg replied in amusement and teasingly used his teeth to then twist and shift the plug.

John laughed “I hope you're not calling me a bike” he muttered, rotating his hips in a wonky circle as Greg continued to touch, tap and move the plug, pressing on sensitive areas inside. It was John's largest plug and was definitely stretching him wide, but he couldn't wait to have Greg inside him, stretching him even further. “I, um, I used flavoured lube… as I’m sure you can tell,” he rambled with a wince, “I didn't realise I’d ran out of my usual brand until the last moment, so I had to go to Boots before I made my way here.”

“I brought some flavoured lube with me too,” Greg told him after a hot, rough, probing swipe of his tongue, drawing a sopping wet line from John’s stretched rim to the weeping tip of his cock. “Mine was purposeful though. Wanted to make sure things were a bit more… palatable. For the both of us.” Wrapping his arms around John’s waist, Greg lifted him unexpectedly with a huff of effort, pushing the pillow away so John could sit up, and kissed him, hard and wanting. Unsteady hands cradling his face, the back of his neck. “Wanna suck me now? ‘Cause I want you to suck me…”

“ _God yes_ ,” John growled, scrambling to give Greg another kiss, a deeply passionate and wet kiss, before he stood on shaking legs and swapped their places, sitting Greg down on the bed instead, dragging him to edge of the mattress.

Picking up the discarded pillow, John threw to the floor and knelt down on top of it, hands running up and down Greg's thighs to feel him, enjoying the solid tension in Greg's muscles as he leaned in and kissed, licked and sucked Greg's chest. He focussed on his nipples, teasing them with the point of his tongue, then sucking them into his mouth and groaning. It was incredibly arousing to be in such a position, on his knees ready to worship at Greg's feet. Ready to take his orders and draw Greg into him in one of the many ways he ached for.

Greg tasted clean, like soap and fabric powder from the robe when John leaned in and took the tip of him into his mouth, the musky, dark and dangerous taste of the man himself only a tongue swipe away. John chased the flavour, slipping inside the skin of Greg’s foreskin and then dipping into the urethral opening, moaning as he tasted pre-come swiftly coating the inside of his mouth. John knew he wouldn't be able to deep throat Greg, not with his size and the odd position, so he wrapped his hand around the solid, fat base and stroked, sucking in time with the rhythm of his hand.

“God, _yeah_ , that’s it,” Greg told him through his teeth, stroking clawing fingers through John’s hair and then slipping both hands down his back, massaging and scratching pleasantly. It left John’s skin shivering in his wake. Some marks stung, catching the sweat that was raising and dripping down his spine, and John felt it coax more lust from within him, felt it make him more whorish and zealous. Greg bent over John’s head and touched further, fingering the crease of John’s backside and nuzzling against John’s scalp with a hot, damp-breath. “Bet you love this, don’t you? Is this a favourite of yours? To fill your mouth with a heavy _cock_? Yeah?” Leaning back on the bed after he’d said it, resting on one elbow, Greg gripped a fistful of John’s hair and lifted his head, staring at how wide John’s lips were spread around the girth of him. “ _Fuck_. Yeah, it suits you.”

John shuddered with a choking whimper, shocked at how turned on he was getting at being talked dirty to. Whenever his past girlfriends had tried, it always seemed overacted like a crap porno, complete with a terrible breathy voice and forced exaggerated moans. Greg however, Greg had it down to a fine art, never overstepping or becoming too ridiculous and disgusting. He had a real knack for saying things the right way, just how John preferred them. Saying each word in the sexiest, cock-dripping and arousing way. A way that urged John on and had him bobbing his head and squeezing the base, taking more of Greg as his other hand travelled between Greg's legs to timidly press a knuckle against his prostate on the outside.

“ _Yes_ … touch me anywhere you like. Don’t be shy,” Greg encouraged him, widening his thighs and tilting his hips to give John more access. He stretched aside after a moment and grabbed for the chair his clothes had been folded upon, dragging it over so he could rummage through them, taking out his phone with a questioning glance at John. “Can I?”

Nervousness crept up along John like a sparking jolt as he considered it. He trusted Greg, felt safe that he was loyal and honest enough not to be unscrupulous with the videos or photos. Knew he hadn’t done anything with the others. Yet those had been anonymous, his face not shown at any rate, and so he still felt anxious at the thought of more with the showing of more. What if a criminal got hold of it? What if he got hacked and they ended up on the internet? And the worst one… what if Sherlock found them?

But, John found himself nodding anyway, agreeing with gathering want, “Yeah,” he whispered around the head of Greg's cock, trying to keep his eyes downcast as he worked to bring Greg closer, finger brushing further back to skim a teasing caress across the sensitive clench of skin between Greg's buttocks.

“Good.” Stroking John’s cheek, Greg fumbled with his phone for a moment and then let out a pleasured sigh, pushing it close to John’s face in clumsy ardour, close enough to only capture his mouth, to capture the way his lips, tongue and jaw worked. “Yeah… good… _fuck_ …”

Acting up for the camera, emboldened by the approval and light affection, John let Greg's shaft rest on his tongue, bouncing it move up and down and lapping at the ridge of his frenulum, whilst his hand continued to rub at the large vein down to the base. He’d never been filmed during a sexual act before, not by someone else. If he wanted something recorded, like his risqué video messages to Greg, he preferred to be in control of that, knowing what was being filmed and for how long. It was somewhat thrilling for many reasons to give over control, both in the capturing of the acts he was performing, and the dynamic between them. John moaned, pulling back so they were connected only by a strand of saliva and pre-come, before he ducked his head back in and pushed Greg as far down his throat as he could with a grunt and a cough.

“ _Fuck yes_ ,” Greg snarled and cupped John’s wet chin, felt gently at his neck with his fingertips, and recorded it all one-handed. “Take my cock…” He soothed the ache of John’s jaw with crawling, pressing digits and then threaded them through John’s hair, keeping it back, despite the fact the strands were too short to stick to his sweaty face. “Let me see you use some teeth… just slightly, just a bit...”

John followed instructions, scraping his teeth gently along the hardened, velvety skin and sucked at the tip roughly, swallowing the pre-come down with another filthy moan and pulling back to look up at Greg, “I want you to fuck me. _Hard_.”

Dropping his phone to the bed, Greg surged towards him, kissing sloppily and curling his arms around John’s torso, lifting him up and against his chest, “On your front first… then your back… then you can ride me until your eyes _roll_ ,” he husked, stroking wonky, hot paths up and down John’s spine with his palms, then cupping his buttocks and spreading them apart so the air of the room got to him.

“ _Yes_ ,” John sighed, head-nodding vigorously as he reached down to touch himself, quelling the ache in his balls by squeezing them, “Lube is in my coat pocket. You'll need to use quite a bit as, well, I used four fingers but I don't know if that'll be enough considering your _size_...”

“Can always do with more lube,” Greg chuckled and trailed adorning kisses down John’s neck, moving to haul John onto the bed as he himself left it, bending to the pile of John’s clothes. He retrieved both the lubricant and condoms, then went to his own clothes to pull the lubricant he’d brought, looking between both bottles as he kneeled up onto the bed like a giddy schoolboy. “Condoms are in case you change your mind. Now; do you want it hard from the start?”

“I like it slow but deep first,” John reminded him, thinking back to the many, many conversations they’d had about this very topic. “Grind down into me, massage my prostate, until I'm leaking and soaked through...”

Greg nodded, flinging the condoms onto the bedside table and dropping one bottle to the bed, choosing to use the other, “You let me know if it’s too much or not enough,” he said.

“Remember… I also might get a bit loud,” John warned with an embarrassed huff, running a self-conscious hand through his hair. “I find prostate stuff _incredibly_ stimulating and can’t always remember to keep it down.”

“ _Good_ ,” Greg replied with a bright smile, moving close to bring him into a kiss, giving John’s heaving chest a few gentle, calming rubs. “It’s okay. I’m not exactly quiet myself.”

“Yeah, God, _please_ don't be quiet,” John purred, pressing against him, “Your talking is enough to get me bloody close. I _love_ hearing how you feel, what you like, how I'm pleasing you.” He reached down and hefted Greg's cock, stroking it from root to tip as he leaned in brushed their lips together. “And I like it when you praise me...”

Returning the ghost of a kiss with a slight, tender pursing of his lips, Greg let their noses touch and slide against each other, “Yeah?” he asked in a tickling exhale and took John’s hips in his hands, twisting him around, turning him onto his stomach and pressing his shoulders down, urging him to lift his hips by going up on his knees. “You like it when I tell you how good you are? How stunning you look? How _delicious_ you taste? How horny you sound?” Greg laughed as he kissed his way down John’s arched spine, stopping once to lick into the small dimples above his backside, and then nuzzled the lower half of his face between John’s buttocks. “How eager I am to take you apart?”

“ _Fucking Christ_ ,” John gasped around a whine, grabbing the bedding with one hand, and his own buttock with the other. The position he was in meant that he didn't need to hold himself open, but John still did, stretching one of his buttocks to give Greg more room as he felt the faint scrape of stubbly skin push further into where he was stretched and sensitive. “Yeah… _Taste me_...”

“How long has it been since someone had their tongue in you?” Greg questioned, voice muffled as his lips and fingers skimmed around the plug. He gripped it lightly, twisting and turning, then sluggishly began to pull it out, groaning as he did so. “You’re so flushed and pretty… such a _beautiful_ lad...”

John whimpered low in his throat, feeling the blush covering his cheeks and his chest. He didn't get told he was beautiful often. Handsome, yes, but never beautiful and hearing it made something light up inside him, something fizzle and pop, so he glanced back at Greg, “S'been a long time,” John muttered, watching Greg as he watched John’s body greedily clamp down and flutter around the plug again and again as it was tugged free, “A long, _long_ time.”

“I _love_ doing it,” Greg told him and let their eyes meet for a moment, curled lips parting as he bared his teeth playfully and nipped at the swell of John’s buttock. “I’m gonna _gorge_ myself on you.”

“ _Please_...” John begged, severing their eye contact so Greg couldn't see how much he was pleading, “...Greg, please… Taste me. _Fuck_ me with your tongue. I want it.”

The plug exited him with a slick pop and Greg dropped it to one side lazily, leaning in to first exhale against and inside John, then to suck and lick, “That’s it, tell me what you _want_. So good… so eager for me… so _open_ for me…” he mumbled between slurping, messy kisses, thrusting his tongue into John and grasping his buttocks, covering John’s hand tightly as he spread him more, angling his hips further.

Keening loudly, John let his forehead rest on bedding that smelled like lavender as he was stretched wider and felt the slippery sensation of Greg's tongue inside him again. The plug had been much bigger, so it wasn't exactly hard for Greg to push in, but John could still feel whenever he pressed against his rim, could feel the heat of the flesh and then the cool chill of the room, of Greg’s shaky breath, when he pulled back. Dropping his shoulders lower, John reached back between his legs and cupped his scrotum, rolling it in his palm, feeling the dripping pre-come against his wrist and forearm as his cock twitched.

“M'leaking. _So_ _much_. So fucking turned on for you… feeling you inside me. Tasting me. _Fuck_ , Greg. It's so fucking good.”

Groaning right against him, Greg moved back to stroke an approving hand along John’s lower back, “Gorgeous lad,” he praised in a coarse salacious tone and went back to sucking at his skin, lapping over and in him. There was spit and lube all over John now, mirrored in slippery patches and dribbling lines on Greg’s face, making a mess of them both and dripping into a sodden patch on the bed between John’s knees.

When he finally leaned back entirely, letting the cool air and his huff of breath to tingle over John’s wet flesh, Greg opened the cap of the lubricant with a loud sharp click. He took his time in coating John again, fingering him, before he slicked up his cock with a low, shaking, gruff sound of delight and pushed close. John felt almost faint with how much he wanted Greg inside him. He’d been fantasising and daydreaming about being split apart and filled for what felt like an eternity. Greg added more than was needed to the both of them, lining up to slip and slide, letting his thick shaft grind and shift against John’s arse, between his buttocks, skimming where he throbbed open with teasing rushes of rigid skin.

“ _Yes_ ,” John gasped, trying to push backwards to impale himself, stopped by Greg's hand on his back as the head of his cock rubbed and snagged on the loosened ring of muscle. “Oh _please_ … please don't tease me, Greg. _I want it_. I want you to _fuck_ me. I want to be stretched open and fucked until I'm sore. I want you to milk me until I'm _dry_.” John knew he was rambling but he couldn’t stop the slew of words, not when he could feel how Greg felt nudging at the lubricated gape of his arse. He tried to rock backwards once more, hardly able to hold back a whimper when he was denied. “I'll be good… I promise, but _please_! _Put it in_.”

“You _are_ good,” Greg told him, leaning over to kiss his clammy nape. “You’re _so_ good. So perfect.” He pressed them together, trapping himself between John’s buttocks, and kept up the small movements of his hips. “But you said slow. Slow and _deep._ ” Greg reached between them however and adjusted and aligned himself, letting the hot, blunt slicked tip finally pierce John, keeping John’s hips still with a firm hand. “There we go, good lad. Look at that… look at how well you take me. How much you stretch to accommodate me. Do you feel it, gorgeous? - That’s it… take me in.”

John clenched and tightened as Greg worked his way in, inch by glorious inch. The pleasure was overwhelming and divine, but there was a pang of discomfort as muscles were stretched wider than John had known and experienced for a long time. Circling his hips, John mewled and rambled nonsense, cursing and hissing under his breath as Greg steadily worked his way inside, stimulating parts of John that he’d forgotten even existed.

“ _Oh_...” John breathed, repeating it again and again on a loop, dizzy and muddled with pleasure, “Oh it’s good – it's _good_.” He laughed, then moaned deeply open-mouthed. “It's so _fucking good_.”

Kissing between his shoulder blades, Greg hummed out a moan of his own, “Yeah, it is. You feel better than I’d imagined. Better than I expected when I saw it was you… when I found out it was your body I have been wanting… craving… pining for,” he murmured between pushing rolls of his hips and lingering touches of his tongue. “Almost there, beautiful boy. Almost all the way inside you. Almost ready to _fuck_ you into the bed like you want.”

“ _Please_ … Greg,” John cried out, right hand clutching the bed cover and left trying to find Greg's to entwine their fingers at the sudden skim and nudge against his prostate. “ _There_! Oh my god! There… there… Don't move. _Don't fucking move_! Please… Oh my god, Greg.”

Greg hushed him, stilling his advance to instead give short, tight rotations of his pelvis. “Right _there_? Is this where it feels the best? Right… fucking… _here_?”

Judging by the noises escaping him John seemed to be crying, caught in some sort of blissful, dense fog of pained pleasure as he nodded deliriously and gasped, spreading his legs further, “You're so _fucking_ good. So good at this,” he slurred, removing his hand from the covers to cup and stroke at himself. He was leaking continuously down to the mattress in thin stringy threads and his fingers broke and reconnected them as he touched, prodded, and teased at the tight cling of his foreskin. “I'm _so_ happy it was you… You're so sexy and gorgeous and... your cock is _amazing_. I can’t wait to ride you.”

“ _Soon_ ,” Greg told him and gave a small push of his waist, grinding against his prostate as he did so. “You let me know when I can fuck you… when I can get _deep_ and take you apart.”

“Just – keep doing _that_ ,” John moaned, tensing and clenching down as Greg did as he’d pleaded, milking John's prostate with a rubbing pressure that had John seeing stars. It didn’t take long, barely a few minutes, before it became too much and yet not enough, and moaning freely, John lifted his head to take in a needy inhale. “ _Now_ … you can fuck me now. _Please_ – take me. _Fuck me_. Make me yours. Even if it’s just for tonight, make me yours.”

Greg smoothed a hand down his back and adjusted his kneeling position, pressing steadily all the way inside, to then pull back until only the tip remained enclosed, “Tell me if it’s ever too much,” he replied, mouthing at John’s nape, “I want to flip you over and take you, _fuck_ you, spread you open before I give myself over to you. Before you can ride me until you come.”

“ _Yes,_ ” John agreed greedily, readily. “Anything. _Please_. Just fuck me.” He rocked back in an attempt to push himself onto Greg in abandon. “I want you. _Fuck_ , I want you. I want you to come inside me… nobody else ever has. I want it to be _you_ … I want you to _fill me_.”

“Oh, I will. I’ll fucking fill you, John,” Greg purred around a hiss of breath, twitching his hips and coyly, playfully, keeping still for a moment more, until John whined outright. He then thrust in deeply, penetrating him in one smooth glide. He did it again and again and again. Working up a deliberately measured rhythm and fucking into John with fervour, emitting sounds of bliss each time he bottomed out and his balls bounced against the back of John’s upper thighs. “Good lad, that’s right, take me all the way in. I can feel how much you want me… I know where you want me to press… _here_ , yeah? Right here, like before. - Are you leaking? Staining the sheets? Good. _Beautiful_. Fucking perfect!”

“Yeah. Yeah, I'm dripping all over the bed...” John moaned, head dropping down so he could see just how much. “I'm making a mess… but – _Oh_ – oh fuck it feels _so good_. Your cock is so big…”

Greg placed the side of a hand along the back of John’s neck, pinning him down, adding force when John didn’t protest, “You take me so well, _look at you_ ,” he muttered. John heard him wipe his free hand on the bed. Saw him grabbing for his phone from the corner of his eyes.

“Are you – are you _filming_ me again?” John asked, genuinely breathless at the thought of having such a position of himself documented. “Fuh-Filming me stretched around you? Gripping you?” Pushing back with more eagerness, John felt his buttocks wobble with each frenzied thrust and grunted through his clenching teeth, snagging onto his bottom lip hard enough to almost draw blood. “So I can later see myself _taking_ you… watch myself being _fucked_ by you, taking it… taking it like a good—” He hesitated, biting harder still at his lip and then giving up, giving in, and whispering low and timid. “Like your good lad?”

“Yeah… my _good lad_ ,” Greg repeated back and groaned, pressing in deeply over and over, rubbing against his prostate on each slide. “My _beautiful_ lad. - I’m gonna show you. Send it. So you can remember how _good_ you are, how much you can take…”

John whimpered and stretched out, elongating his back as he rocked with each rough thrust, throaty sounds flowing freely and without thought. The pleasure was intense, but John was thankful that the pressure against his prostate wasn't enough to force an orgasm from him… well, not yet at any rate. John hoped he could hold off until he was riding Greg, so he could cover him in his ejaculate and smear it in. Make the DI smell like him. Brand and own him.

“F-Fuck me. _Don't stop_...”

As Greg picked up the pace a little, the phone was thrown back to the bed so he could wrap both arms about John’s waist, forcing him up so his back was against Greg’s sweat-slicked chest, matted chest hair pressed into his flesh, “Wish there was a mirror so you could see yourself as I fuck you,” he uttered quietly into John’s ear, making his movements short and swift, enough to send them bouncing on the mattress. Stroking his hands over John’s torso, Greg fingered his nipples and cupped his heaving ribcage. “Then watch as you fuck yourself on me… taking what you want, what you _need_ , what you’re definitely entitled to—”

Without a moment's hesitation and barely a conscious thought, John grabbed Greg’s forearms and twisted, somehow flipping him flat on his back without causing serious damage to the both of them. Greg gaped up at him, stunned at how quickly John had taken the upper hand and changed with domineering intent, and John took the opportunity to kiss him, to suck on his tongue and bite. John wanted him too badly to be denied, he couldn’t take not having him how he craved and yearned for him. Shaking fingers touched John’s hips as he straddled Greg and steadied and realigned them with one hand, as the other wrapped around Greg's throat passionately, tightening with teasing flexes and shocking even John himself. It was brazen and not at all something he’d ever done, but he liked it. Liked how Greg’s eyes widened and his face flushed, the length of his neck tensing and hot.

“I want to fuck myself on you _now_ ,” John growled, getting breathless. “I want to use you. I want to rock, ride and _take_ until you're covered in my come, sweat and spit.” As the last few words left his mouth, John felt a swoop of nervousness grip him and he took an unsure swallow, searching Greg’s face for any sign of disgust. Greg, thankfully, was extremely receptive, accepting it all and seeming to actively enjoy it. He held tighter on his throat in response, quickly pushing himself down on Greg's cock until his thighs were against his arse. He felt fuller and far more in control. “I want to show you, what I can do. How I can pleasure you, and how I like to be fucked.”

“ _Yes_ ,” Greg wheezed and reached for John’s hand, but not to pull it away, only to cover it with his own, indicating with a squeeze that he could be even firmer, so the skin around John’s clasping fingers bulged and went white and dark pink from strain. “Fuck…” Greg then fumbled once again for his phone and after a few shaky, clumsy presses, he angled it to where John sat and gave small, rolling, approving upward bucks. “Show me… _use me_ … pleasure me…”

Trying to show off the firm muscles in his stomach and chest, John stretched himself taut with each circling of his hips, his cock, which lay heavy and blood flushed against Greg's tensed stomach, smeared wetness into the hairs there, turning them into a dark smudging swirl against white skin. John then lifted onto his knees, shifting up and dropping down with a steady rhythm that filled the room with echoing wet slaps of lube and sweat-slicked skin, his buttocks hitting Greg's thighs and his cock smacking wetly against his belly.

“How’s that?” John asked, rocking back and forth and clenching his fingers around Greg’s throat at one particular touch to his prostate. “You feel so _fucking good_ inside me. Like you were made to fuck me.”

Greg let out a choked groan and screwed his eyes shut, “Yeah… _yes_!” he gasped out and pushed in deep, forcing a thick dribble of pre-ejaculate from John’s already leaking slit. Some of it splattered onto Greg’s phone, which was still recording, documenting each movement they made and how they looked, connected and slicked. “Can’t wait to come in you…”

John nodded with delirious impatience, putting his feet flat on the bed and using his leg muscles to ride Greg properly, feeling the burn of strain but enjoying the pleasure too much to stop, “Stroke me… touch me… make me come. Let me fuck your hand as you fuck me,” he rambled and gripped Greg's throat tighter, watching as his face began to go slightly redder.

Spluttering, Greg took John’s cock in hand, teasing every inch, smearing and swirling his thumb over and around the sensitive glans, “Fuh-fuck… s’good,” he got out and then arched his head back, twisting and pushing John’s foreskin up and down. “Good lad…”

John whimpered, realising that he maybe had a new fetish for Greg calling him such lovely names, that maybe he didn't want to disappoint Greg, wanted to blow his mind and leave the man seeing stars from the best shag of his life. Rutting back and forth, fucking into the embrace of Greg’s hand, John's breathing got heavier, his moans and gasps louder, as he got closer and closer to orgasm. They were both covered in sweat, glistening with it and John loved it. He loved every moment, every sound and every sensation as he chased his own pleasure, chanting Greg's name as he found his prostate.

“M'gonna come...” John warned, head falling back and hand going into a tense spasm at Greg’s neck. “M'close… Oh – _Oh fuck_ , Greg… I'm gonna come...”

Letting out a garbled, growling, gush of sound in reaction, Greg began fucking up into John harder and faster, lifting his hips almost entirely off the bed to get deeper, to fuck into John a bit faster, “Come… come, _come on me_ ,” he begged, voice strained and guttural, yet faint, almost drowned out by the sounds of their moving, connecting bodies.

Greg’s hips twitched on one of his quick upwards thrusts and he dropped the phone to take hold of John’s thigh, digging his fingers in hard enough that his nails cut into John’s skin, leaving red half-moon shapes on the outer curve of the bruises left by his fingers. He then convulsed beneath John, cock getting bigger, stiffer, before pulsing thick and fast.

That was all it took to send John spiralling over the edge. The heat of Greg coming inside him spread out, filling him, and John froze taut, wheezing around a hitching howl of gratification. He bent quickly to kiss Greg, made clumsy the moment his length twitched and spurted between them, hitting their chests, a little of Greg's neck, and spreading to dribble down to the bed as John let out a garbled curse. He twitched and shivered with oversensitivity with each prod against his prostate as Greg continued to gently thrust up, intending to extend their orgasm.

Leaning back in for another kiss, John felt the trickling drip of ejaculate slipping out of him and down the tight skin of Greg's still throbbing cock and shivered, incredibly aroused as he pressed a few lazy presses of lips to Greg's mouth, “That – was – _brilliant_ ,” he breathed.

“God yeah,” Greg said around a high, puffing laugh and reached to touch John’s face, his cheek. “The best I’ve had for a _very_ long time.”

“I haven't come that much in years,” John commented idly, looking down between their bodies with a wince. “So – when can you get it up again?”

Greg snorted and drifted his hands down John’s back, “Have to give me at _least_ twenty minutes or so,” he told him, then nudged him with his nose. “And you? - We did plan on doing it, what, three times was it?”

Chuckling at how insatiable and unabashed they had been, John nodded coyly, “I'll use the loo first though and we can have one of those beers and maybe... cuddle?” He blushed, somehow feeling that a cuddle was more intimate than the sexual intimacy they had just shared. “Then we can see how many times we can get through before we have to check out in the morning.” He nosed at Greg's neck. “I doubt Sherlock is expecting me back tonight after all...”

“Yeah, he probably knows you went out to get a shag?” Greg asked, turning into affection and patting a rhythm out on John’s buttocks impishly, parting them intermittently so some more come dribbled out of him. “Didn’t he complain? Or was he busy? Did you pick your time wisely?”

“Mm. He's doing something vile to a liver that he procured from Molly,” John mumbled, fingers stroking through the hairs on Greg's chest, “I think he knows, yeah… not sure if he knows about the man part.”

Greg hummed and pressed a kiss to John’s temple, “Do you think everything will be… strange? After this? When we leave and return to our lives, and become Detective Inspector Lestrade and Dr John Watson again?”

John thought for a moment, even though he wasn’t keen on musing on what lay beyond their moment, “I think it'll only be strange if we make it strange,” he finally replied, “I mean, Sherlock might know just by looking at us that we’ve been together, but as long as it doesn't interfere with ‘the work’ then I can't imagine he'll be too bothered. He'll probably be more disgusted with us for lowering and debasing ourselves… and I don't know who that is insulting more.”

“It might interfere a tad?” Greg told him, pushing his smirk against John’s hairline and then huffing, turning to roll them both onto their sides, unsticking himself from John with a tacky, moist squelch. He didn’t seem overly repulsed by it though, in fact, Greg rubbed John’s come into his chest, over his nipples and then bent over him to nuzzle against his shoulder. “Want to take a shower with me? We can fit if we squeeze in.”

“Absolutely,” John groaned, relishing the ache of his thighs as he tensed and squeezed them together. “Just let me use the loo first? I'm going to have to do something – with this...” He gestured to his arse.

“You can do that while I start the shower, how about that?” Greg suggested and dropped a dozen kisses onto John’s mouth, climbing over him to stand and stretch, lines of pearly droplets rolling down over his skin, getting easily caught in the trail of hair around his navel. His cock gave a soft bounce when he looked John over, foreskin now hiding most of the sodden head, and he groaned in admiration. “Fuck, you look so _good_ sprawled out and messy…”

“Yeah?” John murmured, glancing over his shoulder seductively. At Greg’s distracted nod he brought one leg up, bending it so Greg got a better look at what he was responsible for, feeling more come dribble out of him. “Take a picture, it'll last longer.” It was a clichéd joke, but John looked to the mobile with a hint of it being also a rather welcome invitation.

Greg lifted his brow and picked it up, wiping it on his forearm, “Should I… delete everything when we leave here?” he asked, holding it up to snap more than one photo. John allowed it, biting the inside of his cheek to suppress his grin as Greg shifted to get different angles and then, with an impish tick of his mouth, leaned over him to take a snap of the two of them, their faces pressed cheek to cheek.

“I mean… if you keep your phone safe then I don't see why you have to?” John told him with a blush and a shrug. “As wank fodder, I mean. Like you have been doing anyway. – Maybe transfer them to your computer?”

“Definitely will be wank fodder,” Greg said under his breath and pushed a loud, smacking kiss to John’s ear before he moved away, putting his phone down on his bundle of clothes. “Same goes to you then – Though, you need to be extra careful, living with that snooping sleuth.”

“Sherlock doesn't really bother with my phone. Just my laptop,” John sighed, “He has access to all of my pornography on there… though it’s, um, not overly telling. Or I don’t think so. If it is, he's never raised it with me, but I suppose I've never asked him about his sexuality either...”

Greg nodded, “Me neither. Not really important,” he said, padding to the bathroom. “Not to him and so not to me, you know? Lots of people have guessed. Lots of people have flirted with him. Myself included. Just a _little_.”

John hummed, watching Greg's arse as walked and practically drooling at the view, “He's too fucking gorgeous for his own good,” he remarked, lips twitching in amusement. “It's unfair that someone can be _that_ stunning. That a body like _that_ is going to waste.”

“It might not be? I mean, how are we to know?” Greg questioned, leaning against the door frame and shooting him an inviting, provocative smirk.

“Maybe… but I don't want to think about that right now. This hotel room is our little bubble and I'm only concerned with what's happening in it. I don't want to think about Sherlock, or work, or anything except slinging that dick up my arse again and coming until I'm raw. Deal?”

Greg laughed, “Deal,” he replied and crooked his fingers, “come on then. After the shower, maybe you can finger _my_ arse this time?”

“That sounds like a plan,” John grinned, standing up on shaky legs and then grimacing, looking down at the white, slick lines running down his legs. He clenched his buttocks and reached back with one hand, waddling swiftly to the toilet. “ _Oh my God_ … it's going down my thighs! Oh, Jesus!”

“It’s not that bad!” Greg exclaimed in hilarity, slapping his backside as he went by and following him in, closing the door just as John sat down. “Could be worse. Could be shit. Come is the _best_ thing to be going down your legs in comparison to _other stuff_.” He walked up, cupped John’s face, kissed him loudly, and swept over to the shower. It was small and cramped into the corner, still speckled with water from earlier use. “I’ll lean against the tiles. Let you have most of the space.”

“You're a gentleman,” John said from his sitting position, having a sneaky wee whilst he cleaned himself up. It should have been odd, to use the toilet only metres away from another person, but it wasn't.

When they both climbed in under the spray, they kissed and washed first with just water, just using their hands, their nails, and then with the actual shower gel provided and a flannel, one that Greg assured him he’d brought here himself. It was nice. Made John feel young and carefree, especially when Greg began splashing and play wrestling him against the frigid tiles. John knew it was silly and possibly a bit risky in the long run, but he felt happier than he had for weeks. Felt good just to have a cuddle. To press warm flesh together and wrap arms around another person. It was sweet and innocent, and John felt protected and safe.

With his cheek up against Greg's chest as they swayed together, enjoying the trickle of the water over his hair and face, “Would you fuck me missionary?” John asked, hand straying to Greg's buttocks. “Facing me... so we can kiss?”

“Yeah,” he replied, stroking feather-light patterns into John’s skin, “missionary is something I’m a _master_ at. Been doing it for years…” Snorting in amusement, Greg dropped his chin to John’s head and reached over to adjust the temperature of the water when it became too hot, filling the room with too much steam. “What else do you wanna do?”

John hummed, leaning up for a kiss, “Let you fuck my throat… and perhaps we can try and fuck standing up? Up against the wall. Whilst you grab my hair and slam into me, against me, _hard_.”

Greg let out an eager sigh against John’s lips, “Any wall in particular?” he asked with a curling grin, rubbing himself up against John. His cock, still soft, was warm and twitching, rolling and pushing into John’s pelvis.

“The strongest. One that would take the strain of how hard you’d be _fucking_ me,” John purred with a tilt to his head, sucking a mark into Greg's collarbone, “I want you to fuck me until we’re bruised by it.”

“ _God_ …” he uttered hoarsely and let his head fall back against the shower, clawing his hands up John’s back to clutch at his shoulders. “Yeah, I can do that. I _want_ to do that. - I’m gonna drop dead after all this, I swear…”

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback fuels us! 
> 
> [Kittie's Twitter](https://twitter.com/naughtystepkit)  
> [Gem's Tumblr](http://gem-gem-bites.tumblr.com/)  
> 


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